


silver city

by orphan_account



Category: K-pop, VIXX
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Fantasy, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 21:55:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13773372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: dancing assassin hakyeon must team up with captain of the royal guard, jaehwan, in order to unearth the cause of a greater threat.but the mission — and the man beside him — may hold more than he bargained for.





	silver city

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is the continuation of this tweet/drabble: https://twitter.com/jyanicandy/status/960970130464354306  
> If you haven't read it, it's imperative that you do because this story starts up right where that drabble ends.  
> Warning: lots of worldbuilding and fantasy shtuff awaits  
> please enjoy <3

_The handle of the knife was cold in his hand._

_Hakyeon adjusted his grip on the wooden handle, the iron blade singing to his blood as he narrowed his eyes. In approximately thirty seconds, his target would be within perfect throwing range. The knife would land, unobstructed and true, into his target’s heart._

_Hakyeon was almost bored with how easy it was._

_The approaching footsteps grew louder, as his target gradually grew closer. From this range, Hakyeon could now see the figure clearly — a tall feminine figure wrapped in a rich chocolate-brown cloak. A Pyramese noblewoman, engaging in business matters at the heart of Argenta City._

_Completely unarmed._

_Hakyeon had to tread carefully, though. Even though night had befallen the city, Hakyeon’s razor-sharp vision could make out her unnaturally light pink hair, the very color of the sakura flowers that crowned her capital city. And the leaf-shaped marking that surrounded her left eye, just a shade darker than her porcelain skin, was a dead giveaway._

_The Astera quietly made her way down the street. It was time._

_Hakyeon’s free hand, instinctively, fluttered to his belt. His folded fan, tucked away in its own little pocket, seemed to reassure him as his knife hand lifted and drew back._

_Lady Miha’s voice whispered in his ear, “Empty your mind. Your only thought should be on your quarry and your quarry alone. Let your aim fly true.”_

_Pink hair, like sakura blossoms. Leaf over her eye. Cloak of the Pyramese nobles._

_Time stilled as Hakyeon drew back his arm all the way —_

_He heard the whistling too late._

_Hakyeon jerked around, deflecting the whizzing dagger with his own weapon and knocking it aside. His heart suddenly kicked into overdrive, and icy horror seized his veins. No one should’ve tracked him. No one should’ve been there, at that moment. Hakyeon couldn’t have made a mistake — he_ never _failed._

_Something was wrong._

_The noise alerted the noblewoman, who shrieked in surprise as she stumbled back. Hakyeon whirled around, desperately lifting his knife one last time before someone lunged onto his back._

_Hakyeon hissed, reaching up with his knife to stab at the intruder only to experience an excruciating burning at the crown of his spine. He cried out, reality as he knew it falling to pieces before him as he crumpled to his knees, limbs losing their feeling. The knife clattered from his paralyzed fingers._

_His heart froze over as guards were suddenly flooding the street, covering his target from his field of vision until he could only see a sea of black. The weight lifted from his back, and Hakyeon could see the glint of the tranquilizer needle, tinted crimson from his blood._

_His attackedr reached for Hakyeon’s immobile body, and white panic seized Hakyeon upon seeing the fan —_ his _fan — in his grimy hands._

_No no no no no._

_“Bring him to the prison.” His attacker murmured, and Hakyeon’s world swam away in a dizzying blur of sounds and colors._

_He imagined Lady Miha standing in front of his defeated form, arms crossed and lips set into a stern frown.  The insignia of the Shadow Coterie glistened on her sleeve as she kneeled in front of him, eyes cold._

_“Sloppy error. You’re better than this.” Her voice, like a thorned caress, pulled Hakyeon even further under. “You disappoint me, my protégé.”_

_Hakyeon’s mind screamed at him to fight, to get up and finish the mission, but —_

_Oh. He was so tired._

_So very, very tired._

* * *

 

“Good morning.”

A smooth voice pulled Hakyeon from his slumber. Hakyeon opened his eyes slowly, heart still racing. The night of his capture — the night he had made an unforgivable, irreversible mistake — would probably haunt him for the rest of his short, miserable life. Even if he did go free, the idea of him returning to the Coterie was laughable. They would’ve relocated by now, after his failure. The thought made Hakyeon feel hollow. Numb.

The justices had written him off as just another mercenary, a delusioned contracted killer doing it for the gold. No one had reason to suspect, and why would they? The Shadow Coterie was the best kept secret in the continent of Verinta, having operated for decades without being found out. And amongst the simpering communities of the Three Empires, no one could imagine anyone still holding a personal vendetta against the Astera.

 _Astera._ The word alone made Hakyeon’s lip curl.

Hakyeon didn’t move. He waited until his pulse had slowed to a reasonable rate before slowly sitting up, eyes staring at the wall in front of him. He wasn’t in his cramped room at the Black House. He wasn’t in his lightless cell in the Hollow, either.

The bed he sat in was plush and warm, complete with silk pillows and embroidered sheets. One wall of the room was made entirely of glass, and Hakyeon could see the entire city sprawling out beneath him. The white carpet on the floor was luxurious, probably an import from Jiruun judging by the color of the fur. Only foxes in Jiruun had such soft white coats.

So yesterday wasn’t just a bad dream, then.

Hakyeon took a deep breath and turned his head to face the source of the smooth voice that had greeted him.

His breath stuttered in his chest.

It all came back in a horrible rush. An unfamiliar face — the new Captain of the Royal Guard, the leader of the squadron sworn to protect the Crown Prince of their empire, Areuna— greeting him at his cell yesterday. Making a proposition that seemed too suspicious to be real — until he had brought out the fan.

Hakyeon reached beneath his pillow, and his fingers closed around smooth wood. He brought it out before him and snapped it open. The delicately painted stars and moon in a brilliant violet night sky danced across the paper, still vibrant even after all these years.

Definitely not a dream.

He lifted his gaze back to the figure seated in the armchair next to the bed.

This new Captain of the Royal Guard. Hakyeon hadn’t even gotten his name before the anesthesia in his food had knocked him out shortly after the conversation. _For precautionary purposes._ The Captain had said as Hakyeon had drifted off.

If only the drug had prepared him for the face that greeted him, clear to him now in the broad sunlight of the morning.

Because in the darkness of his cell, Hakyeon couldn’t have seen those doe brown eyes, electrified with energy. He couldn’t have seen his sharp nose, set jaw, and full rosebud lips that made Hakyeon’s brain blank for a few seconds. He certainly couldn’t have seen his striking platinum blonde hair, so different compared to the varying brown and black shades that all Argenti were born with. His hair, almost silver in the sunlight, was swept up in the standard style for all military officials.

And, compared to the seasoned general that the last Captain was, this man’s body was slim, almost too much so for his particular rank. Broad shoulders sloped down to a narrow waist, defining a frame cut out with the sleek black suit of the Argenti royal military. The blue insignia of the Royal Guard adorned the right of his chest, and the silver crest that marked him as Captain hung from his throat.

He was the most gorgeous being Hakyeon had ever laid eyes on.

Damn him. _Damn._ Hakyeon had always had a special weakness for beautiful people that Miha had never been able to beat out of him.

Hakyeon set his face into a carefully blank expression, focusing on the point above the Captain’s incredibly distracting face. He didn’t deign the other with a response, so the Captain carried on.

“I realized after yesterday’s events that I never properly introduced myself. Call me Lee Jaehwan, the newly inducted Captain of the Royal Guard and glorified babysitter to the Crown Prince.”

Hakyeon quelled the urge to snort. This new Captain seemed the same age as the Crown Prince himself. _Babysitter. He thinks too highly of himself._

Though, his name stuck. _Lee Jaehwan._

His name was perfectly Argenti. And yet he looked different, almost too much so to be a native of the Areuna Empire. The Empire had expanded over time, but Jaehwan didn’t match with any of the conquered lands. Nor with any from Jiruun or Kyurhenn. His unnatural hair color was off-putting, a clear sign of the Astera, but there was no visible marking. Astera markings were always in obvious places, but Hakyeon could see none on Jaehwan. And all Astera had such a...a _feeling_ about them that set them apart. And yet Jaehwan seemed completely, perfectly human. Perhaps his hair was the result of something else.

Hakyeon’s suspicious were roused, but he didn’t have anything to base them off of. So he remained quiet.

“I’m sorry for the shock yesterday.” Jaehwan prattled on, seeming undeterred by Hakyeon’s lack of reply. “I’m sure you were expecting to see the old man. Unfortunately, he’s been promoted. Leader of the Emperor’s Vanguard. He sends you his best wishes.”

Hakyeon really snorted then. The last time he’d encountered the great general, Hakyeon had almost cut out his throat, with or without chains. _Best wishes. Sure._

“Is there something on the wall?” Jaehwan said, sounding almost irritable as he twisted around in his chair to follow Hakyeon’s gaze. “You seem awfully distracted by it.”

“I just don’t want to look at you.” Hakyeon said flatly. He didn’t miss how Jaehwan’s eyes lit up at finally drawing out a reaction. Hakyeon looked even further upwards, eyes almost trained on the ceiling.

“Why? Because I’m so pretty?” Jaehwan’s disembodied voice goaded at him. “You may be a stone-cold assassin, but you can admit that you find me good-looking. It’s fact.”

Hakyeon rolled his eyes. He may have found Jaehwan unfairly handsome, but he certainly wasn’t turned on by egotistical maniacs. “No. I find that old man more attractive than you.”

There was a light chuckle, and Hakyeon allowed himself to take a look.

Jaehwan’s eyes were crinkled up, face lit up in a lopsided grin. Hakyeon immediately looked away again. _Damn it._ He forced his heart to stay calm. He’d met plenty of beautiful people before. Even if Jaehwan was the most stunning by far — oh gods, no. _Get it together._

“Peculiar taste. I don’t judge.” Jaehwan said teasingly. “But I digress. You’re probably hungry, right?”

Before Hakyeon could reply, Jaehwan stood, smoothing out the wrinkles along his suit. Hakyeon took a deep breath and forced himself to meet Jaehwan’s gaze. Those doe brown eyes were alight with amusement.

“Let’s get you washed up. We should, at least, have you look a bit more presentable.” Jaehwan said as he made for the door.

“Why?” Hakyeon couldn’t resist the snark in his voice. “You care that much about looks?”

Jaehwan scoffed, a sound so derisive it made Hakyeon’s blood boil. “If you want to sit through breakfast covered in dirt and grime, be my guest. It was only a courtesy.” Jaehwan opened the door, behind which two serving girls were waiting. “Send them away or not. Up to you.”

Hakyeon glowered after Jaehwan’s retreating back as the two girls entered the room, clad in simple white robes. They kept their eyes on the floor, and Hakyeon could almost literally smell their fear.

“We’ve been sent to help clean and dress you.” The one on the right said, voice barely there. Next to her, the other one was trembling.

“I can do it myself.” Hakyeon snapped, more out of mercy for the poor souls than anything else. Plus, he’d rather not have helpers that would be constantly on the verge of fainting. “You can go. Tell the Captain I’ll be out shortly.”

“Yes, s-sir.” The same girl stammered, before the two disappeared in seconds, relief evident on their faces. The door snapped shut behind them.

Hakyeon rolled his eyes, sliding smoothly off of the bed. As much as he’d like to spite Jaehwan by staying in his current state, the Captain was right. Hakyeon felt filthy. Hygiene for prisoners was the last thing on the jailkeepers’ minds, and Hakyeon was eager for a bath at last.

The washroom was adjacent to his bedroom, connected by a door, and the tub was complete with a showerhead and a vast array of bottles on a counter. Jars of dried flowers, slim bottles of oils, and wooden gourds of hair tonics and soaps lined the wall, and Hakyeon scoffed at the extravagance of it all. He had to admit, though, that once he had bathed, he felt the cleanest he ever had in his life. He’d dumped an arbitrary bottle of oil into his bathwater, and his skin was baby soft and smelled like peppermint.

One of the servants had left an outfit outside of the bathroom for Hakyeon to dress in. Hakyeon tossed his dirty prisoner’s tunic into the tub and adorned the new clothes. He shivered as the smooth silk brushed against his bare skin. When he had combed through his hair and was fully dressed, he faced the mirror in the bathroom.

His black hair was gleaming, the strands just barely brushing against his eyebrows. His skin was almost glowing, the scar curving just below his eye almost stark against his skin. And his clothes...they were so unlike his old fighting leathers. This was the garb of a someone with royal blood — a black shirt and pants, covered with a midnight blue silk robe tied with a sash around his waist. And on the back of the robe, blooming from the hem was the design of a flower, outlined in silver and filled in with white.

Orchids. The Areuna Empire’s representative flower.

Hakyeon stared at himself in the mirror, at the new creature staring back at him. Hakyeon looked as if the years of blood and sweat and tears had never happened, minus the scar on his eye. He looked clean. Unbothered. Like he’d never had to wield a weapon in his life.

Hakyeon half-contemplated ripping off the beautiful robe and tearing it to shreds with his bare hands. This was _not_ him. He was Cha Hakyeon, a greedy assassin who had courted with the most wicked in the world and thieved and manipulated and killed the most able.

He let the mask slip over his face once more, eyes cold and expression blank. _Do not forget who you are._ What _you are._

When he exited his room at last, Jaehwan was waiting for him. The Captain gave him a once-over, whistling lowly, and Hakyeon’s mouth twitched.

“Lovely.” Jaehwan murmured, genuine appreciation in his voice.

_Don’t forget, Cha Hakyeon._

Jaehwan looked up at Hakyeon’s face and grinned again, and Hakyeon looked on impassively. Jaehwan was nothing to him. Nothing.

“Let’s go eat breakfast.” Jaehwan said. “We have much to discuss.”

* * *

 

Hakyeon couldn’t quite believe he was in the Silver Palace, yet. He’d only seen the grand exterior from afar, hidden away behind the grand Eune Gate.

But being inside was a different thing, entirely.

Rather than being a singular building, the Palace was a complex of courtyards and gardens and buildings and pavilions that all took Hakyeon’s breath away. Servants bustled about in vibrant robes of varying colors, and soldiers were running drills in the distance. At one point, Hakyeon swore he saw the young Princess with her lady-in-waiting practicing archery in a courtyard, before Jaehwan swept him down another hall.

“The Princess is trained in self-defense and weaponry from a young age.” Jaehwan spoke, seemingly reading Hakyeon’s mind. “She’s a talented archer, and not too shabby in close combat, either. With a woman of her rank, she needs to be able to protect herself.”

Hakyeon wondered if Jaehwan was either too trusting or just plain stupid for entrusting such information to _Hakyeon,_ of all people. He wondered what the Shadow Coterie would make of this information, if Lady Miha knew that he was in the heart of the government she so despised.

But, then. Of course. Lady Miha would know, without a doubt. She probably had her spies that were constantly stationed around the palace report back to her. They’d never dared breach the Eune Gate — no, they weren’t _that_ powerful. Hakyeon wondered if Lady Miha knew how Hakyeon was faring.

He wondered if she even cared.

He’d never been so close to anyone in their little keep, except Hana. But friendship only went so far within the Coterie. They were friends as well as enemies, everyone eager to snatch the best assignment, the most valuable target.

Hakyeon realized that he wouldn’t be particularly missed.

He swallowed the bitterness in his throat as he mindlessly followed Jaehwan. He’d been caught, by the _government,_ no less. Lady Miha had always made it clear that capture was the greatest, most unforgivable sin an assassin could fall to. Those who managed to escape back to the Coterie would simply be killed on sight, regarded as a traitor and failure. Hakyeon didn’t even know what happened to those who failed — because, to his knowledge, he was the first who had in a very, very long time.

Was freedom even worth it, then?

Perhaps he could travel the country. Go to a different continent, even. Then —

“Jaehwan!”

Hakyeon blinked as a woman, clad in a pure white robe, caught sight of the Captain and rushed over to them, nearly tripping over her feet. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and she carried a plain wooden box in her hands.

“Joohyun!” Jaehwan’s voice was affectionate as the woman skidded to a halt before him. She was dwarfed by Jaehwan’s height, having to crane her neck to look up at him.

“You’ve been so busy so I haven’t been able to find you.” The woman, Joohyun, said with a huff. Hakyeon cocked his head. Joohyun’s hair was a normal shade of brown, but there was bright pink at the tips. And on her collarbone, peeking out above the collar of her robe, was the imprint of a leafy herb. The Mark of a Healer.

The signs of an Astera.

Hakyeon refused to let his gaze waver, even though his hands were twitching at his sides. He clasped them behind his back. No use in losing his cool and trying to murder a bitch in the middle of the _palace,_ of all places.

Even if his hands itched for his knives.

_You are Cha Hakyeon. You are Cha Hakyeon._

“I’ve been meaning to give you this.” Joohyun presented the wooden box to Jaehwan, flicking her hair out of her face impatiently. “The silversmith gave it to me a whole week ago.”

Jaehwan accepted the box, and Joohyun seemed to finally notice Hakyeon’s presence. She tilted her head, eyebrows sky high. “Is this the mercenary?”

Hakyeon gave her a blank look, even if every nerve in his body reacted viscerally to her mere glance. _Don’t fucking look at me._

“His name’s Cha Hakyeon,” Jaehwan said, and if Hakyeon wasn’t thinking any better, Jaehwan almost sounded _chiding._ “And what’s this?” Jaehwan effectively drew Joohyun’s attention away from Hakyeon and back to the box. Hakyeon loosed a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding. He had to keep it together. He couldn’t lose it.

Jaehwan flipped open the top of the box, and Hakyeon glanced at it from the corner of his eye. Nestled in a bed of dried bracken was a silver crest, identical to the one on Jaehwan’s neck. But instead of pure silver, there was now a dark stone inlaid in the center of the star-shaped ornament.

“You did it!” Jaehwan exclaimed, voice full of pleasant surprise.

“Of course I did.” Joohyun said smugly. Hakyeon tilted his head. What purpose was the stone for?

“How are the other ones?” Joohyun said.

Jaehwan lifted the sleeves on each arm, revealing hidden bracers on his wrists, each one silver and inlaid with a similar-looking stone. Hakyeon squinted, trying to get a better look, but Jaehwan dropped his sleeves quickly as Joohyun nodded in approval.

“Here, gimme.” Joohyun took the box back as Jaehwan reached around his neck to unclip the crest around his throat. Hakyeon watched with a bored expression as Jaehwan replaced the crest with the new one, laying the old one to rest in the wooden box. Joohyun snapped it shut when he was done.

“Where are you headed now?” Jooyhun said, tucking the box under her arm.

Jaehwan jerked his chin towards an ambiguous direction. “The West Pavillion. Important business.”

“And the mercenary somehow has to do with it?” Joohyun scoffed.

Hakyeon snapped. “My name is _Cha Hakyeon_.” He said lowly, voice icy and eyes flashing.

Joohyun froze, giving Hakyeon a wary look. Hakyeon had often been told that _that_ tone could probably freeze over the entirety of Areuna in a cold hell. That theory had never been proven wrong.

For a tense few seconds, Hakyeon glared at Joohyun, who seemed paralyzed in the face of his underlying wrath. Jaehwan stepped deliberately in front of Hakyeon, effectively sweeping the assassin into his shadow. Hakyeon’s lip curled.

“I’ll see you around, Joohyun.” Jaehwan said, reaching out to cuff affectionately at Joohyun’s chin. Hakyeon seethed in disgust — at what, he didn’t know — as Joohyun batted Jaehwan away. The unsteady waver in her gaze showed that she was still shaken up as she quickly scurried away.

Hakyeon scoffed. Good. Let her run while she could.

“You are just overflowing with charisma, aren’t you.” Jaehwan said dryly as he continued to move. Hakyeon scowled, but followed.

“I refuse,” He said softly. Jaehwan’s ears seemed to physically perk up like a puppy’s, his surprise at Hakyeon actually responding to him clear as day. “To be disrespected by someone like _her.”_

“What, an Astera?” Jaehwan said conversationally, as if they were discussing the weather. “What’s so bad about them?”

Hakyeon stared daggers into the back of Jaehwan’s head. “Why? Are _you_ one?”

Jaehwan turned his head to give Hakyeon an infuriating sideways smirk. “I am.”

Hakyeon stopped dead in his tracks.

Jaehwan couldn’t be Astera. Where was his mark? And he didn’t have that...that same _feeling_ like other Astera. There wasn’t any way he could be.

Jaehwan stopped walking, turning to face Hakyeon.

“Did you think the hair was just some sort of mutation? Or that I was mixed?” Jaehwan chuckled, his platinum blonde hair still reflecting a strange silverish tint. “I don’t have a mark. I don’t know why. But these —” He held up his wrists, letting the sleeves slip down to reveal the same bracers with the strange stones. “They help me temper my power. As for what my power _is,_ I don’t have one yet.”

“Impossible.” Hakyeon spat, taking a step back.

“Possible. Because I exist. Perhaps I’m just a late bloomer.” Jaehwan was still smirking in that infuriatingly horrible way. He turned his wrists to and fro, the identical stone on his neck glinting. “Joohyun made these for me. They’re called Sieves. Pieces of iron ore implanted with salt and true silver. I’m sure you know how iron dampens magic, salt freezes it, and true silver is a conductor for it.” Jaehwan sighed dreamily, and Hakyeon could've sworn it was the look of a madman on his face. “Perfect components.”

No wonder Hakyeon wasn’t cuffed, or at least laden with enchantments to keep him still. He’d been with a walking shield this whole time.

An _Astera._ He was so, so stupid.

Astera had coexisted alongside humans in their continent of Verinta for centuries.  Maybe since the beginning of time. They were always characterized by bright and unusual hair colors, striking beauty, and some sort of tattoo related to their power in an obvious place: the legs, neck, face, or arms. They always had some sort of specific power, like how Healers were Astera with healing magic, or how the bulk of the Pyramese army were fire Astera. They aged as humans did, but they seemed less susceptible to diseases and injuries as humans were.

The facts that Hakyeon had so carefully studied looped in his head. True silver, gold, and bronze were prime conductors for magic that seemed to boost an Astera’s power, hence why the armies of the Three Empires all had armor and weapons made of the materials. In contrast, iron and salt dampened their magic, and were thus the main components for the armies of Apacium — the anti-magic continent that neighbored Verinta.

And Hakyeon had used those materials to hunt down Astera for years.

_They are the enemy of all things. Do not trust them._

Lady Miha’s voice blocked out all other sense and thought as Hakyeon took another step back. Every bone is his body was rigid with danger, the immediate urge to _fight_ singing in his blood.

Jaehwan was still studying him with an amused smirk, the Sieve on his throat winking at Hakyeon. “Is there a problem, _mercenary?”_

Hakyeon _snarled,_ the sound so inhuman it sent chills through his own bones. This _Astera_ had been toying with him since he’d come with his impossible offer to Hakyeon’s miserable cell. For some reason, the thought of Jaehwan being one of _them_ infuriated Hakyeon beyond belief. The carefully conducted control he’d fabricated after meeting Joohyun snapped.

“We still have to talk about this arrangement,” Jaehwan continued, looking a little too casual for Hakyeon’s taste. “I’m guessing you’re reconsidering?”

“I’d rather slit my own throat than work with the likes of you.” Hakyeon spat. His eyes developed tunnel vision for Jaehwan and Jaehwan alone, the way they did whenever he was readying himself for the kill. Zeroing in on his quarry.

Before Hakyeon could even _move,_ Jaehwan was suddenly in his face, a hand around Hakyeon’s throat. Hakyeon gasped, unable to mask his surprise as Jaehwan roughly turned him around until Hakyeon’s back slammed against one of the wooden pillars of the walkway. He’d never — he’d _never_ seen someone move so fast, not even one of his fellow assassins in the Shadow Coterie. There was no question, this man was an Astera, but _how —_

“I don’t care about whatever petty grudge you might have against Astera,” Jaehwan said softly. His eyes were still carefully composed, and somehow it made him look even more terrifying. “I don’t care who you are or what you’ve done, Cha Hakyeon. This mission is of an importance that you cannot comprehend. The world has very real dangers beyond your little bubble of ignorance, so I suggest that you get over yourself and _cooperate.”_

Jaehwan’s fingers clenched around Hakyeon’s throat. Hakyeon regained his senses, shaking off his shock, and fury flooded through his gates of control.

“Bite me,” Hakyeon snarled. Jaehwan’s eyes flashed.

Hakyeon reached up with both of his hands to latch onto Jaehwan’s wrist, before using the leverage to swing his legs up and kick out at Jaehwan’s chest.

The Captain grunted, stumbling back in surprise as Hakyeon whipped out his fan from its hidden pocket in his robe, nerves alight with adrenaline. But that inhuman speed presented itself again as Jaehwan soon had Hakyeon’s wrist in an iron hold, gripping so tightly that the fan clattered to the ground sadly.

“Don’t fucking _touch me —”_ Hakyeon snapped at Jaehwan.

“Too bad.” Jaehwan snapped back, forcing Hakyeon back once more against the same pillar, slamming his wrist against the wood with a resounding _thud._ Hakyeon’s captive hand clenched weakly as Hakyeon thrashed. How, how, _how?_  No Astera moved like this. No Astera had lack of any markings. No Astera didn’t know their specific power in their prime age.

No Astera was like Jaehwan.

Jaehwan pressed against Hakyeon to prevent the other from moving, and Hakyeon wanted to set himself aflame from all the contact with the Astera. Jaehwan was so close, his breath heavy in his ear. Hakyeon dared to stare at him straight on, unafraid.

Those eyes were not of the world.

Hakyeon...paused. There was rarely an instance he got surprised. Nothing surprised him anymore. He was jaded. He’d seen too much.

But the depths of Jaehwan’s eyes were world-ending.

That perfect, beautiful face seemed predatory this close. Those rosebud lips were drawn in a snarl, wild and unrestrained.

“What are you?” Hakyeon whispered. Jaehwan only drew closer, and Hakyeon felt true fear for the first time in years.

There were footsteps, a rustle of commotion, then —

“You really have to stop trying to force yourself on every person who even looks at you.” A deep voice commented dryly, as if he were watching the opera.

Jaehwan scoffed, hanging his head as he extricated himself from Hakyeon’s limp body. “You wound me with your baseless assumptions, Hongbinnie.”

“What else am I supposed to assume? Seeing whatever that was.” The same voice said, bemused.

Hakyeon gave himself a moment to recompose himself as Jaehwan brushed off his jacket, as if he hadn’t just pinned Hakyeon to the fucking pillar.

Those eyes. The rage in them. They would probably haunt Hakyeon’s nightmares for the next few weeks. Maybe even years.

Hakyeon stepped away from the pillar, letting his hand drop back to his side, wrist aching.

_You are Cha Hakyeon. Do not trust them._

Hakyeon silently picked up his fan back up from the ground, tucking it back into its secret pocket. Not again. He couldn’t let his guard down like that again.

“Sorry, Hakyeon. Perhaps not the impression you wanted to give Hongbin here.” Jaehwan said, voice once again light and teasing. Hakyeon didn’t even dare to look back up into Jaehwan’s face, afraid of what he’d find there again.

He had half the mind to retort _I can care less about whoever Hongbin is and what he thinks,_ before he finally turned and saw who Hongbin really was.

For the second time that day, Hakyeon felt true and genuine surprise.

Because he was looking right into the face of the Crown Prince of the Areuna Empire.

**Author's Note:**

> all my thanks go to mother maru, who helped me formulate and put the ideas together, and mel for being by wonderful proofreader and just being her.  
> <3


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